


Shots

by gothpandaotaku



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda to Dark Dynasty, Depressed Sam, Gen, Guilty Sam, Hurt No Comfort, Sam Blames Himself For Everything, Season/Series 10, Suicidal Sam, Suicidal Thoughts, The angst is strong in this one, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothpandaotaku/pseuds/gothpandaotaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Dark Dynasty Sam comes to the realization, with the help of a bottle of whiskey, that he can't watch another person he cares about die. So he'll take the one to blame out of the equation: himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shots

**Author's Note:**

> I. OWN. NOTHING. Except the ocean of tears I cried after Charlie's death. 
> 
> Just to be clear, I DO NOT BLAME SAM IN THE SLIGHTEST. But I do believe Sam blames Sam.

_I'm sorry for everything_  
_Oh, everything I've done_  
  
_Am I out of touch?_  
 _Am I out of my place?_  
 _When I keep saying that I'm looking for an empty space_  
 _Oh, I'm wishing you're here_  
 _But I'm wishing you're gone_  
 _I can't have you and I'm only gonna do you wrong_  
  
_Oh, I'm going to mess this up_  
 _Oh, this is just my luck_  
 _Over and over and over again_  
  
_I'm sorry for everything_  
 _Oh, everything I've done_  
 _From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun_  
 _And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved_  
 _Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved_

_-“Shots” by Imagine Dragons_

* * *

 

Sam always knew there was something wrong with him.

It wasn’t that hard to figure out, considering the first body left in his wake was his own mother. But it wasn’t until Jess died that he started counting.

Mom. Dad. Jess. Madison .Pamela. Ellen. Jo. Bobby. Kevin. Fuck, even Dean, a few times.

But there was nothing— _nothing_ —he wasn’t willing to sacrifice to save his brother.

Even Charlie.

He’d asked her, practically begged, to help Dean, and she’d agreed. But because Sam was in her life, someone she called a friend, she died. Because of Sam.

Sick and twisted as he was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting it, on some level. Everyone he cared about died at some point. Admittedly, he’d tried to keep her the slightest bit at arm’s length even after worming her way into his heart, letting her get close enough that he considered her an honorary little sister, but not _too_ close. _No one_ can get too close.

But when he’d walked into that bathroom and seen Charlie’s mutilated body in the bloody bathtub he’d nearly lost it. For the first time he felt _sick_ down to the marrow of his bones. The contents of his stomach he’d just barely managed to keep in rebelled hours later, as Charlie’s fucking _corpse_ kept flashing behind his eyes.

* * *

 

So here he is, a week later, a whole week after burning Charlie’s goddamn body, laying on his bed set on drinking however much whiskey it took until he blacked out. Again.

Dean had been avoiding him all week. That was okay, because Sam wished he could avoid himself too. Who’d want to look at the person to blame for your mother’s death?

Sam brought the bottle of whiskey to his mouth and took another healthy swig.

“Hey Sam? Where’s the-?” Dean said as he entered his brother’s room, only to stop in his tracks as he spied Sam with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. “Dude are you getting drunk again? That’s my thing.”

“Mine now… ‘s my fault,” Sam slurred. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. He’d killed Charlie. And mom. And Jess. And, and, and. Too many ands. Too many people he’d killed.

Sighing heavily, Dean took another step forward. “It wasn’t your fault. It was fucking Stine’s, and I’m going to tear him limb from limb because of it.”

That seemed to piss his brother off, as Sam shot off the bed, shaken out of his drunken stupor, and glared at Dean. “Shay it, Dean. Just admit it. It’s my fault Charlie died. I killed her! Come on, we’re all thinking it!”

“No one’s thinking that,” Dean growled. “I don’t blame you-”

“But you _should_ ,” Sam laughed a cold, bitter laugh, “Don’t you get it? He was right. He was _so_ right.”

“Who was right?”

“Dad. Dad was right. You should have killed me when you had the chance,” Sam choked out through bitter laughter and even more bitter tears. If Dean had just killed him, _everything_ could have been avoided. Dean going to hell, the apocalypse, the leviathans, Dean going to purgatory, the angels falling from heaven, _everything_. Couldn’t he see how funny that was? Sam had died multiple times, while the ones who actually deserved to live died. Because of him, always because of him.

“Don’t you say that, DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY THAT!” Dean hissed as he grabbed Sam by the collar and threw him against the nearest wall. “Now you listen to me. You’re gonna get past this. It’s gonna hurt like hell, you’re gonna feel guilty, but you’re gonna suck it up and do what needs to be done because it’s _not you’re goddam fault_. Capiche?”

Sam looked away and nodded, not able to look his angry brother in the eye, but added when Dean still didn’t let him go, “Yeah, I capiche.”

“Good.” He let Sam go and for a moment his face softened to something akin to the brother of Sam’s childhood memories. “Now get some sleep.”

“Yeah, okay.” Suddenly feeling tired, not to mention sloshy, Sam took his brother’s advice and flopped on his stomach onto his bed. It was true, everything would be okay.

Because when he finally cured his brother from the Mark of Cain, saved his ass _for once_ , Sam would put a bullet in his brain.

Not _one_ more person he cared about was dying because of him.

* * *

 

_Am I out of luck?_  
_Am I waiting to break?_  
 _When I keep saying that I'm looking for a way to escape_  
 _Oh, I'm wishing I had what I'd taken for granted_  
 _I can't help you when I'm only gonna do you wrong_  
  
_Oh, I'm going to mess this up_  
 _Oh, this is just my luck_  
 _Over and over and over again_  
  
_I'm sorry for everything_  
 _Oh, everything I've done_  
 _From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun_  
 _And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved_  
 _Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved_  
  
_In the meantime can we let it go_  
 _At the roadside that_  
 _We used to know_  
 _We can let this drift away_  
 _Oh, we let this drift away_  
 _At the bay side_  
 _Where you used to show_  
 _In the moonlight_  
 _Where we let it go_  
 _We can let this drift away_  
 _Oh, we let this drift away_  
  
_And there's always time to change your mind_  
 _Oh, there's always time to change your mind_  
_Oh, love, can you hear me?_  
 _Oh, let it drift away_

_-“Shots” by Imagine Dragons_

**Author's Note:**

> I do believe that song could be the national anthem of Winchesterland. Anyway, I would love it if you left a comment on your way out! :)


End file.
